Love and Other Stimulants
by Orange-Coyote
Summary: AU. Famous!Kurt. Kurt decides to grab a cup of coffee on his own, without the complexity of security. Blaine, a student and also a fan of Kurt's, sits in the same LA coffee shop attempting to finish an essay. Some paparazzi show up and once Blaine catches a glimpse of Kurt he decides to help the designer out. What will come of their meeting? Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: I'd just like to say that after typing 'tonight' so many times, it might never look the same.**_

_**Summary: AU. Famous!Kurt. Knowing me, this may turn into more than one chapter. (Who am I kidding? There will be more more chapters.)  
**_

_**Huge bonus points to anyone who figures out the meaning behind the name of Kurt's line.  
**_

_**Disclaimer at the bottom. Oh and I apologize for any grammar/spelling errors I may have missed, etc.  
**_

* * *

Kurt sighs in content as the rejuvenating aroma of coffee fills his nostrils. He sighs happily when his mocha slides across his taste buds, warming his throat on its way down. It's nice to be alone for once, without all the clamor being a renown designer brings along. No screaming fans, no paparazzi, no bulky bodyguards. Just quiet and coffee.

On the other side of the cafe, a student sits with his laptop, typing furiously as an idea for his music theory essay hits him. He's in a zone and he plans to take advantage of it while it lasts. As the burst of energy wanes, a noise distracts him. He turns to look out the window and sighs. Men with cameras, which could mean only one thing. Someone famous is sitting somewhere inside his grandfather's deli/coffee shop. Blaine lets out a frustrated sigh. One downside to living in Los Angeles is the amount of paparazzi always lurking around. On the plus side, it could be someone he knows, someone he's a fan of, and this could be a great opportunity to meet said person.

Blaine searches the shop as inconspicuously as possible, hoping to not alert the paparazzi outside that their prey is nearby. He may not be famous (yet), but he knew if he were he would hate to be the center of attention. As his gaze falls across the back left corner of the room, his eyes widen and he nearly gasps aloud.

Sitting there, seemingly enjoy a steaming cup of coffee, is one Kurt Hummel.

Kurt Hummel, founder of the fashion line known as _EBC_ and collaborative designer for brands such as Marc Jacobs and H&M.

Blaine, although no one would guess it of him at first glance, has decently vast knowledge of the fashion world. He reads the newest issue of Vogue faithfully every month, although if he were truthful it's more for the covers than the actual clothes. But he likes looking at the clothes too!

Kurt is the biggest designer to hit international status in years. He's known from LA to New York, from London to Paris to Milan. His success story inspires thousands. He, like Blaine, was bullied horribly in school but he stayed strong and made it out alive. Blaine may or may not (okay he _definitely_ did) have an illegally downloaded file containing Kurt's _It Gets Better_ video.

The man himself could model his line God forbid something happened to one of his regulars. His flawless pale skin, the perfectly styled hair, his deep blue eyes, and the wonderfully lithe form were all pleasing aspects, to say the least. That man is beyond gorgeous, and Blaine has said so multiple times to anyone who will listen.

Remembering his mission, Blaine shakes his head of all extraneous thought and mentally prepares himself for what he's about to do. _No fangirling, no squealing, and definitely no rambling,_ he reminds himself as he stands and walks toward where Kurt still sits.

Once he approaches the table, Blaine's unsure of what to actually say. He hadn't planned that part. Nervously, he clears his throat. When that garners no response he says, "Uh, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt lifts his eyes from the magazine he'd been immersed in and looks to Blaine. He wears a polite smile but Blaine can see the annoyance flare in his beautiful eyes. "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Blaine begins, "but there are some photogs stationed outside and I thought you'd like to know. You know, in case they're here for you or something." The last comment comes out in a mumble, but Blaine stays where he is despite his building embarrassment.

Kurt sighs, throwing up his arms in a show of frustration. "Oh. Damn. And to think I was hoping for a quiet day." He's quickly throwing his magazine into a black satchel, something Blaine knows Kurt takes with him everywhere because it holds some of his designs in progress (and _no _Blaine does not know this from cyber-stalking Kurt).

"I could take you out through the back way," Blaine offers. At Kurt's raised eyebrow he hurriedly adds, "My grandfather owns this place."

Kurt, finished with packing his belongings, happily replies, "That would be great!"

Blaine smiles because how could he _not_ smile at Kurt's enthusiasm? "I may not be famous, but I know you'd rather not be seen if you can avoid it." Something else Blaine did _not_ learn from watching countless interviews.

As Kurt stands and they turn toward the kitchen, Blaine wonders aloud, "Shouldn't you have a security team?"

"I sent them home to be with their families. They deserved a day off." Kurt chuckles dryly. "I thought I would be better at noticing nuisances, but apparently I was wrong."

"It happens to the best of us."

Kurt laughs. "What are you? A model? A screenwriter?"

Blaine blushes. "Neither. I would like to be a musician though."

Kurt looks him over. "I bet you have an amazing voice. You can sing for me on the way to my car."

Blaine shakes his head. "No, I couldn't do that."

Something hits Kurt in that moment. Is this kid on a date? Is he just being polite, no strings attached? Kurt would hate to disrupt anything... "Are you here on a date?"

Blaine jumps. Why would Kurt ask that? "No..."

Kurt relaxes and mentally cheers. He has no idea why the knowledge of this random boy being single and available makes him so giddy. "Then why won't you sing for me?"

"I wouldn't want to bother you," Blaine responds.

"I've already told you your voice will be phenomenal," Kurt insists. "You will sing for me and that's final."

Remember the rambling Blaine said he would keep under control? Yeah, well that isn't going to work.

"I can't do that. I don't have a song ready and I'm beyond nervous so my voice will be fried. I mean, you're _Kurt Hummel_. How could I possibly _not _be nervous to sing for you? Then I'll be a nervous wreck and completely annoy you and you'll hate me and I really don't want you to hate me because I think you're amazing. I mean, you're talented and you have a great sense of humor, and I've seen your old choir videos and your voice is angelic. And honestly, why would you want anything to do with me? I'm nothing - "

"Hey."

Blaine snaps his mouth shut. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Kurt assures with an amused smile. "But listen to me. You are _not _nothing. You are so much more than that. I know out there somewhere there are people who care about you, whether you know it or not. I've just met you and even I feel a connection to you."

Blaine's heart races. **_Kurt_** _feels a connection to **me**?_

"Yes, I do." Oops, wasn't supposed to say that out loud. Before he can apologize, Kurt's talking again. "Don't ever let yourself feel like you're worthless, because you're not. We're all here for a reason, whether you believe it to be fate, karma, God's will, or reincarnation." Blaine chuckles a bit because he knows of Kurt's atheist background (again, _not_ from looking up every scrap of information he could find online). Hearing Kurt's voice is alone enough to put a smile on his face.

"Of course," he says when it seems Kurt's waiting for him to speak. "Thank you."

"Now, what will you sing for me?"

Without introduction, Blaine begins to softly sing.

_I think you're pretty without any makeup on._

_I think you're funny when you tell the punchline wrong._

_I knew you got me, when you let your walls come down. Down._

_Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy._

_You brought me to life._

_Now every February you'll be my Valentine. Valentine._

_Let's just talk all through the night._

_There's no need to rush._

_We can dance until we die._

_You and I will be young forever._

Kurt felt his breath leave him. This kid was indeed phenomenal.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on._

_I can't sleep._

_Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

_My heart stops when you look at me._

_Just one touch and baby I believe._

_This is real._

_So take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

_When you're around my, life's like a movie scene._

_I wasn't happy until you became my queen._

_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece._

_I'm complete._

All Kurt could think as he listened was: it possible to fall in love with a song?

_Let's just talk all through the night._

_There's no need to rush._

_We can dance until we die,_

_You and I will be young forever._

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on._

_I can't sleep._

_Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

_My heart stops when you look at me._

_Just one touch. Now baby I believe._

_This is real._

_So take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever._

The way Blaine just effortlessly held and released each note had Kurt completely captivated.

_I'ma get your heart racing if that's what you need in this teenage dream tonight._

_Let you rest your head on me if that's what you need in this teenage dream tonight._

_Tonight..._

_Tonight..._

_Tonight._

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on._

_I can't sleep._

_Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

_And my heart stops when you look at me._

_Just one touch. Now baby I believe._

_This is real._

_So take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever._

_I'ma get your heart racing if that's what you need in this teenage dream tonight._

_Let you rest your head on me if that what's you need in this teenage dream tonight._

_Tonight._

_Tonight._

Blaine releases a breath once the song comes to a close. There, he'd done it. He sang for Kurt Hummel, one of his idols. And now it was time for the verdict.

"What do you think?" Blaine asks anxiously. He hopes it's something positive.

"You were...," Kurt, at a loss for words, settles for, "beautiful."

Blaine grins, a full-on thousand megawatt 'light up the entire city' grin. "Thank you. That's a huge compliment coming from someone of your standing."

Kurt frowns. They've reached the back door and they're almost to his car. For some reason he doesn't want this moment to end, doesn't want to leave this boy he knows nearly nothing about.

"What's your name? I don't think I asked before."

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson." They shake hands and Blaine revels in the smooth expanse of Kurt's skin and the pleasant shiver it sends down his spine.

"Well, I'm Kurt. But I guess you already knew that, huh?" They both chuckle.

Kurt takes the time to remember Blaine, take him all in and engrave him onto the surface of his memory. Maybe he'll sketch him later...

"I did," Blaine laughs. "But it was still great to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Kurt replies. Does that count as flirting? Is Blaine even gay?

Blaine smiles a bashful smile and Kurt may or may not have fallen in love.

They stand beside each other, just outside the back exit, for what feels like hours. Time slows and only they exist. Then their bubble is broken.

"Kurt! Over here!"

"Mr. Hummel!"

"For you fans, Kurt!"

Kurt huffs and turns to Blaine. "Seems I must be going. Thank you for what you did, and for singing for me. You were amazing, really."

Blaine makes a bold move and grabs Kurt into a five second hug. "You're welcome."

Kurt's wallet is digging into his ass from his back pocket, maybe a sign. He has a few business cards left in there and if he gave one to Blaine they could keep in touch... but no, that would be too risky. Just because he and Blaine have some sort of chemistry isn't enough of a reason to possibly start a media scandal.

"Who's that, Kurt? A boyfriend?"

"Sir, over here!"

"Smile for the cameras!"

There's no more time. Kurt has to go, _now_. He walks the ten steps to his car that he had parked in the back alley for such an escape as this with all the grace and poise he owns and hops in. He waves to Blaine and then he's gone.

The paparazzi, disappointed at a failed attempt for a news story but glad enough for the pictures they attained, leave the premises. A determined few stay behind to question Blaine, but he simply turns around and walks back into his grandfather's business and deadbolts the door behind him once he's safely inside.

He smiles to himself as he makes his way back to the front, back to his abandoned laptop. There's no way he'll be finishing that essay now.

_Santana is never going to believe this_, he thinks to himself.

* * *

_**A/N: This just came to me. I have a feeling there will be a Part 2 in which they meet again, because I can't help myself.**_

_**Maybe let me know what you think? :]**_

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kurt or Blaine or Santana or "Teenage Dream" by Boyce Avenue.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: So here we are, on the second chapter of what just may become a multi-chap fic I hadn't even planned a second chapter for... but I just couldn't leave Klaine hanging.**_

_**Have you ever written a chapter for a story in your head in the haze between being asleep and awake? That's where the idea for this came from.**_

_**Lots of dialogue in this one but things should be heating up sooner or later.**_

* * *

Blaine has been scoping Treats and Tomes out for the last two weeks, hoping to catch sight of Kurt again. No such luck. What if, since the paparazzi incident occurred, Kurt wouldn't be coming around anymore? But no, Blaine wouldn't think that way.

The desire to talk to him again, just to see him again, ate at Blaine's insides like standing close to a bonfire, a pleasant burning that could grow to consume him if he wasn't careful. Ever since their last meeting, Kurt held an even more prominent space in his thoughts.

Santana had a field day with it. At first, she enthused he ought to "tap that fine designer ass" and the like. As the first full week passed by with still no sign of Kurt, she had sympathized and reminded there were "plenty of hot gay fish in the sea." Now, after the second week of no Kurt was drawing to a close, she'd been trying to hook him up with random guys she knew from work to take his mind off of melancholy thoughts. But Blaine didn't want any random guy; he wanted Kurt.

Now he sits at his covert corner table, one which he has implicitly taken claim to over the last few days of his vigil, keeping an eye out just in case. Preoccupied by whirling thoughts, he comes back to Earth when the bell above the door rings out in the relative quiet.

Blaine looks over, as is now his habit, starting at the person's feet and working his way up. Spotless black boots, dark wash skinny jeans, a white button-up, all of which are promising, and then... a misshapen, worn yellow wool cap. Blaine sighed. Not Kurt. Kurt wouldn't be caught dead wearing such an accessory.

He goes back to staring out the window, mentally thanking his grandfather for picking such a great location. The neighborhood isn't overly crowded, but consistent traffic and the multitude of cars passing by pose a perfect distraction.

Green Honda Civic. Bet they think they're helping the environment. Red Toyota Camry. Maybe they work as a personal assistant to some celebrity. Blue Chevy Corvette. Either they have money or they're a trust fund baby. White Cadillac Escalade. Definitely a trust fund baby, or maybe the stray celebrity. Black Toyota Prius. Aspiring writer. Silver minivan. Soccer mom taking her kids to practice.

His internal monologue is interrupted when someone walks up to the table he occupies and asks, "May I sit here?"

Blaine turns to look at the stranger. None other than Yellow Wool Cap Guy.

Something about the other man's voice pulls at Blaine's mind but he can't place it. He looks closely at the other man's face. Perfectly trimmed eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and the occasional spot of acne meets his gaze. But what really catches his attention are the depths of the other man's eyes. A beautiful pale green surrounds the irises, speckled with grays and blues. Blaine feels himself fall into a world where only those eyes exist, a meadow of spring flowers and cloudless skies.

He pulls himself away with some effort, knowing the other man must be completely freaked out by now. "Um, sure." He turns away in an effort to remain composed and absentmindedly realizes other tables were available and yet this man had asked to sit with him.

The other man smiles, causing Blaine to flush in embarrassment at being caught staring, before taking a seat opposite him. Between his hands steams a fresh cup of coffee and Blaine abstractedly wonders what kind of caffeine the man has a liking for.

"Non-fat mocha," the stranger remarks, as if he could read Blaine's mind.

"Sorry, didn't mean to stare." Blaine feels the need to apologize even though he knows it's not strictly necessary. Even that coffee order screams familiarity...

They sit in silence for a minute before the other man sighs. Blaine analyzes the pools of green and notices them turning blue. "It's me, Blaine. It's Kurt."

Blaine gasps as all the pieces fit together. The eyes, the coffee order, the voice... and now he's gaping like a fish out of water, which Kurt apparently finds amusing. Blaine snaps his jaw shut, inconspicuously glancing around the room to see if he's garnered any unwanted attention. Luckily, the few people in the establishment are too busy with their cell phones or their children to pay him any attention.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asks, his voice quiet.

"You don't have to whisper," Kurt chides. "That's sort of the whole point of this ridiculous disguise."

Blaine can't help but point out, "The only thing wrong is the horribly unflattering hat."

Kurt chuckles. "Yeah, that was my manager's idea. The acne make-up was my publicist's."

"Manager? Publicist?"

"Yes, my manager, Rachel Berry, and my publicist, Mercedes Jones. We've all been close friends since high school and once I hit it big they were more than happy to support me and become a part of my professional life as well."

"I know," Blaine says accidentally.

"You know?" Kurt inquires with an amused smirk.

Blaine blushes and turns his head. Apparently Kurt hasn't lost the ability to fluster him with a simple look. "You talk about it in interviews sometimes."

"Aww, you watch my interviews," Kurt coos teasingly.

"Shut up."

"I think it's sweet."

Blaine decides to change the subject to spare himself any further embarrassment. "What are you doing here?" He belatedly recognizes how rude that sounds and adds, "Not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am. I was just curious as to why you picked today to come here."

Kurt laughs and waves his hand dismissively. "It's a reasonable question seeing as we haven't seen each other for a few weeks. I've been busy, unfortunately," he sighs. "This has been the only day I've had some free time this week." He smiles when Blaine nods his head in understanding. "And as to why I came here... well, I think it's pretty obvious."

Blaine looks questioningly at Kurt for a minute. Maybe Kurt just has a special place in his heart for this particular cafe. Blaine would never be self-centered enough to assume Kurt was implying that he was the apparently obvious reason that Kurt chose to return to the same establishment. "Yeah, the coffee here is pretty good."

"It is," Kurt agrees, "but that's not what I meant."

Blaine raises an eyebrow inquiringly, causing Kurt to laugh aloud. Blaine was so oblivious. For some reason he found it endearing.

"You. You are the reason."

Blaine gasps, completely disbelieving yet pleasantly surprised. Kurt Hummel, renowned designer and absolutely gorgeous Kurt Hummel, just admitted to wanting to see Blaine again. And he actually went through the trouble of coming up with a disguise and coming down to the cafe, not even knowing for sure whether or not Blaine would be there. The feelings rushing through his mind at the moment were overwhelming and he almost didn't notice Kurt twitch nervously in his seat. Almost being the key word.

"I don't know what to say," Blaine says, his voice sounding quiet and awed compared to what he had been hoping for. He's supposed to be reassuring Kurt, not sounding like a total fangirl.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Kurt apologizes as he stands. "I've sprung all of this on you and I don't even know how you feel about things. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I'll just go."

"NO!" Blaine glances around wildly, knowing he's making a scene but he can't help himself. He can't let Kurt go, not now. "I mean, sit, please." He sends Kurt his best puppy-dog eyes and sighs in relief when Kurt slowly slips back into the chair with no argument.

"Why don't we get to know each other a little better?" Blaine suggests hopefully. "How much time do you have to spare?"

Kurt looks markedly tense as he responds, "I cleared an hour."

Blaine nods. He can work with an hour, no matter how badly he wishes it could be longer. "What's your favorite color?"

Kurt looks at him like he's gone crazy but when Blaine's serious face doesn't waver for a second, Kurt laughs aloud. "Seriously?"

"Mhmm." Blaine looks so attentive Kurt can't help but swoon internally. It's been so long since someone's asked about him purely out of interest and not with some ulterior motive to move higher in the industry or a lame attempt to sleep with him.

"Lilac." Blaine's eyes widen so Kurt explains. "It reminds me of my mom."

"Oh." Everyone knows of Kurt's mother's passing when he was young seeing as Kurt openly spoke of it when discussing his past for interviews. Blaine knows it must still be a touchy subject nonetheless so he chooses his words carefully. "That's really sweet."

"What's yours?"

"Turquoise," Blaine responds with thinking. Before it had always been red, but seeing Kurt's eyes up close just brought the color to mind and Blaine realized Kurt's eyes were quickly becoming one of his favorite things in the entire world. Not that that was creepy or stalker-ish at all.

"Where would your dream vacation take place?"

"Getting a little deep, aren't we now?" Kurt teases. Blaine's glad that the tension between them from earlier seems to be dissipating. "Either Paris, as cliché as that is, or Brazil."

Blaine leans forward, leaning his chin in his palm. "Paris I could see, but why Brazil?"

"Isn't it my turn to ask you a question?" Kurt counters. Blaine sighs but nods. "What is your favorite childhood memory?"

"Speaking of deeper questions," Blaine jokes. "But to answer that, I didn't have a close relationship with my parents as a child. They were always busy with work or attending some party put on by another prominent company. For the most part, I was left behind and taken care of by babysitters." Blaine sighs as the memories of lonely nights watching Disney movies alone in his room and eating dinner in the dining room with only that night's babysitter for company. "But I remember this one day, I was just about to turn ten. My mom came up to me, kissed the top of my head, and told me that she had a party planned out and she would invite the whole neighborhood. It felt like such a grand gesture and seeing as how they'd never really paid that much attention to me before, I reveled in it. Even my father seemed excited for it." Blaine smiles at the thought of his father spending that day with him as they stayed out of his mom's way while she fussed and prepared the house for the imminent party. "That would be my favorite childhood memory, spending time with both of my parents."

A small smile takes over Kurt's face. Seeing Blaine happy intrinsically makes him happy too, despite how little they know each other. It scares him a bit, that he's so invested in a boy he's only met once before. That added to how often Blaine's been on his mind over their brief period of separation should have Kurt running for the hills, but he's not. He can't imagine not having Blaine in his life.

"Sounds like you had fun that day," Kurt comments. "Now, to answer your previous question. I've always had this love for nature and since the Amazon rainforest is in Brazil... I just think it would be so cool to see it all."

Blaine nods and stores that bit of information away in the "Kurt" drawer of his mind. "Good choice."

Kurt takes a sip of his now cold latte, buying time to think of a good question to ask in return. "What is the first song you've ever sung?"

Blaine raises an eyebrow curiously, but answers. "Let's Stay Together. Al Green."

Now Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Really? How did that come about?"

"Nu-uh. One question at a time," Blaine reminds. "First, same question to you."

"I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles."

"Guess we both have a thing for iconic songs from before we were born," Blaine observes with a chuckle. "Sticking with your earlier question, or would you like a different one?"

"Earlier one."

"My grandmother and grandfather used to take care of me when my parents had to leave on an extended trips for work, conferences and stuff like that. My grandmother, despite her Italian descent, loves Motown. She listens to it all the time. When I stayed over, she'd have me sing the songs with her."

Kurt imagines a young Blaine, curls sticking out in every direction, singing along with the smooth, soulful voice of Al Green and he can't hide the smile that spreads across his face. "I bet you were absolutely adorable."

Blaine groans and hides his face in his hands. "Looking back, I was so off-key, especially on the higher notes."

"Well, not everyone can be lucky enough to be a countertenor like myself," Kurt replies soothingly.

Blaine snaps up, a involuntary gasp leaving his lips. He's never met a countertenor before. He's heard about them, of course, but a male singer with such a range is rare and meeting one in person and knowing that the person is Kurt... that's just amazing.

Kurt chuckles. "Yes, that's usually the reaction I get from people who know their music."

Blaine's about to respond but Kurt's cell phone beeps loudly, causing Kurt to hold up a finger and dig around in his jeans pocket. He slides his finger across the screen and intently reads the message that appears. He groans quietly and sticks the phone into his satchel with an annoyed sigh.

"I'm needed at the office," he informs. "Apparently not even my trained employees can correctly tell the difference between a flat seam and a french seam."

"It's okay," Blaine says, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. "You're a busy guy. I get that."

"I had a great time just sitting here and talking with you, Blaine," Kurt says softly. "We should do this again sometime."

Blaine nods enthusiastically. "I'd love that."

"So would I. How about you give me your number and I'll get in contact when I have a free moment?" Kurt suggests, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate or come across as overeager.

"Sure," Blaine replies as he scribbles his name and number down on a napkin. He checks the numbers over three times to be sure he hasn't made a mistake in his rush (because how horrible would it be if he'd given Kurt the wrong number?) and hands the thin paper to Kurt with trembling fingers.

Kurt looks it over, smiling and nodding when he's finished. "Perfect."

"So I guess I'll be seeing you?" Blaine asks, just to confirm that he's not dreaming all of this.

"Yep," Kurt says with a smile. He leans down to grab his bag from the floor and hangs the strap over his shoulder. "See you around, Blaine."

"See you later, Kurt."

Kurt waves and then walks toward the door, pausing by the window to be sure his cap is on straight before walking out the door and out onto the bustling sidewalk. He looks back one last time to send Blaine a smile and then he turns and is gone in the sea of people traveling up and down the cement.

Blaine looks down at the worn wooden table, a wide grin spreading across his face.

* * *

_**A/N: I could come up with an excuse to try to validate the amount of time it's been since I've published the story, but honestly I don't think you guys want to hear it.**_

_**Did this completely flop or no? I feel like something's missing but seeing as you wonderful people deserved an update, I put this up. Hope it's to your liking.**_

_**Looks like this will be at least two chapters longer, so there's that. If there's something you want to see in particular, maybe some Rachel/Mercedes/Kurt interactions or Santana/Blaine perhaps, feel free to let me know in a PM or review. I write not only for me, but for all of you.**_

_**Until next time. And I wish everyone a happy and prosperous 2013! :]**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hello everyone. It looks like the majority of this story is going to be dialogue-heavy so if that's not to your liking, this is your warning.**_

_**I appreciate every single review, alert, favorite and kind word you guys have given me regarding this story and I'm so happy you're enjoying it as much as I am. :]**_

_**Also, I have news! I actually wrote a very basic outline for this story to keep myself on track (something I usually never do) and this story looks to be about seven chapters, give or take seeing as how my stories and characters are usually unpredictable. So while you wait between updates, just remember: I have a plan!**_

* * *

Five days have passed since Blaine last heard anything from Kurt. After the introductory "Just making sure this is the right number. ;) - Kurt" text, all has been quiet on the Kurt front. Something that Blaine understands seeing as Kurt's been busy with an upcoming runway show. Apparently when Kurt Hummel announces a charity show, the entirety of New York City goes wild. The search alert on his phone (that Blaine totally denies having) has been b;lowing up with articles, Tumblr posts, and tweets for the last few days. A part of him wants to go to the show, to see Kurt again. But a larger part refuses to cross the line from informed admirer to obsessed stalker. Some people, like Santana, say it's a little late for that, but Blaine likes to think he still has his dignity where his love for Kurt is concerned.

Which is why on the day of Kurt's big exposition, Blaine sits idly on a park bench watching children chase each other around the playground equipment. Their innocence charms him; their unadulterated laughter makes him smile. He ponders what it would be like to have children of his own someday. Dark curls and bright eyes or perhaps creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of the nose...

His phones vibrates in his sweater pocket, bringing him out of his thoughts as his hand automatically pulls the phone into view.

_Kurt calling_

He gasps involuntarily as his heart races. Kurt is calling him! His hand nearly trembles before he gains enough composure to hit the answer key. Maybe Santana's right about his feelings after all...

"H-hello?"

"Blaine! Thank god you answered. My show is about to start and the backstage area is complete and utter chaos! I'm so nervous. What is someone falls? What if something tears?!"

Blaine can hear muffled shouting from Kurt's end of the line as well as a deep, pounding beat. Kurt's breathing is shallow and Blaine wonders if that's a warning sign of an oncoming panic attack or something. He's never been to a runway show but he imagines the models running around to throw on shoes or have their makeup retouched at the last minute. No wonder Kurt sounds so anxious.

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath." Blaine smiles to himself as Kurt wordlessly complies. The trust implied in the simple gesture feels astounding. "Kurt, everything will work out wonderfully. Your designs are flawless and you would never hire anyone you considered incapable of doing the job well."

Kurt exhales followed by a short laugh. Blaine makes a questioning noise and Kurt replies, "Somehow four sentences from you have calmed me down when Rachel couldn't do so in the four _hours_ she's been with me."

"Maybe that's because you don't sign my paychecks," Blaine joked, in hopes of lightening Kurt's mood further. He's rewarded with another short bark of Kurt's musical laughter.

"Meaning you don't feel obligated to inflate my ego which in turn lends more credibility to your opinion?"

"Exactly."

"You might have a valid point there, Mr. Anderson."

_Is Kurt __**flirting **__with me? _Blaine still isn't really over the fact that this is Kurt Hummel he's talking so casually with. Because how does one ever get used to speaking with their celebrity crush?

"Why thank you, Mr. Hummel," he teases right back.

"My pleasure," Kurt purrs.

_Okay, time for a subject change before I get too excited. _"How much longer until your first model walks out?"

"Why? Trying to get rid of me already?"

Incredibly Blaine discerns an edge of worry in Kurt's tone. Is he honestly thinking Blaine wants to be rid of him? "That's ridiculous," he says aloud. "I'm just curious as to how long we have to talk before I inevitably need to let you go."

Kurt murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like "never," but before Blaine has a chance to question it he clearly states, "About five minutes."

Blaine sighs, a mixture of disappointment and understanding. Sooner or later he'd get Kurt all to himself. He just had to be patient. Wasn't there a Beyonce song about that, women liking their men patient? Not that Kurt was a woman in any way. No, he was _definitely_ all man. But maybe the same sentiment applied?

"Blaine, you're doing it again."

Blaine starts at the sounds of Kurt's voice in his ear, nearly dropping his phone but catching it just in time to save it from a lethal fall. "Doing what again?"

"Spacing out on me at random moments in our conversation," Kurt retorts. "This is the third or fourth time, I think," he adds good-naturedly.

Blaine feels his cheeks heat up and for once is grateful he and Kurt aren't face-to-face right now. Is it his fault that Kurt is so damn distracting? "Sorry."

There's some fumbling on the other side of the line before Kurt comes back on. "That was the show director. They want me to say a few words before the show starts."

"Right. Well, break a leg out there."

"Thanks. Talk to you soon?"

"Sure."

"Bye Blaine."

"Bye."

"Wait!"

"Yeah?"

There's a pause but Kurt simply says, "Never mind." And then the lines is dead.

Blaine spends the next ten minutes wondering what Kurt might have said.

* * *

"Mr. Hummel, they're ready for you now," the assistant informs quietly when she sees that Kurt has hung up. Even though she knows next to nothing about the man, she has a feeling he's deep in thought and she's hesitant to disrupt him. Kurt Hummel is known to be a bitch when necessary.

"Thank you, Charlotte. I'll be there in a second."

She scurries off before anything else can be said, having a million things to do anyway. Kurt watches her go without a word. Once the young woman is out of sight, he sighs bitterly but shakes the emotion from him soon after. He should be giddy with excitement at this opportunity! Instead he's just disappointed at having to cut his conversation with Blaine so short. On the bright side at least he's not nervous anymore.

He stops by a mirror and runs a hand down his designer suit, flattening any small wrinkles that may have passed his observation. One last look over is given to his hair and makeup and then he's being ushered out onto the runway, the music lowering in the background and being replaced by polite clapping and the occasional squealing fangirl that somehow made it past security.

He squints into the bright lights, searching the crowd for a familiar face. His eyes land on Rachel in the front row, smiling encouragingly and giving him a thumbs up. As childish as the gesture is, he feels a warmth seep into his chest and flow to his fingertips. Why had he been so nervous in the first place? He's done this sort of thing before. Maybe not for charity and not on his own time, but still. Then again would he really want to keep doing this if it didn't lend him some type of excitement?

The answer to that is a definite no.

With one last look over the crowd of well-dressed fashionistas, fellow designers, fashion bloggers, and good old-fashioned reporters before him, Kurt begins to speak. "Thank you all for coming to our show today. I appreciate every single one of you and what you've done by attending. Everything sold tonight will have its proceeds sent straight to the charity of the buyer's choice. So, relax and enjoy the show. And don't forget to buy something." There's some laughter and applause before the music is turned up again. Kurt winks and sashays away, tapping the first model on the shoulder as he passes her when he arrives backstage.

The show goes off without a hitch, despite his earlier worries. Blaine's words of encouragement float through his head the entire night, keeping any stray fears at bay. Which brings another question to the forefront of his mind: how did Blaine's voice have such a soothing effect on him when even Rachel, his friend for years and years, couldn't calm him?

_Because he means something to you,_ his mind whispers, _something more than Rachel ever could._

He shakes the thought from his mind. That's ridiculous. He barely knows Blaine! The guy could be a serial killer in his spare time and Kurt would be none the wiser. Though there is a small niggling in the back of his mind that tells him he'd still feel for Blaine anyway, Kurt shakes that off too. He's being absurd! _That's absurd. You're absurd._

Blaine is not a serial killer and Kurt does not have romantic feelings for him. Plain and simple. End of story.

Infatuation, a deep liking, a crush... call it whatever you will, but _not_ love. It's too soon for love.

* * *

_**A/N: Again, this was supposed to be longer a tad but … I feel like you deserve updates way more often than I give them so here this is.**_

_**Any and all feedback is always appreciated. And if you get impatient between updates, I'd direct you to my Klaine Drabbles collection or a wonderful story called Model Behavior by themuse19.**_

_**For being such wonderful people I'll give you a teaser for the next chapter: Blaine will attend a show of Kurt's with Santana. Just imagine what can happen.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I have returned! My inspiration struck this morning so I wrote the majority of this chapter in the last two hours. Hopefully it's good.**_

_**My inspiration: I read a Klaine fic (there's a lot of those that I enjoy btw) and in it Blaine was running his fingers through Kurt's hair and that inspired a certain part of this chapter.**_

_**This turned out to be way longer than I thought it would be so it's being (technically) split into two parts. Originally I had planned for the bar scene to be a part of this chapter but oh well.**_

_**I hope this hasn't been too long of a wait... Anyway, I've never been to NYC or to a fashion show at all. So I'm taking creative license on the majority of this chapter. If something really bothers you about it or you have a suggestion to where the show can take place hypothetically, feel free to let me know.**_

_**I was just so excited to post this... Enjoy! :D**_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. None of the characters used, and definitely not the song used. And all mistakes are mine.  
**

* * *

Nerves have never been associated with the name Kurt Hummel. In every interview, at every show, and even in the face of modeling disaster, never has he come across as anything but calm, cool, and charming. Today, however, his true colors begin to surface.

Not only have three of his most loyal employees attempted to console his obvious nerves, but even two newbie models tried to kindly assuage his frantic pacing and over-the-top micromanagement. His workers showing concern is one thing, but the models? Not so goo. Word is bound to get around that Kurt isn't exactly what he portrays himself to be and in the fashion industry, a cut-throat industry as it is, any weakness is taken advantage of by his rivals.

Sure, the last time he'd felt this nervous he had simply called Blaine and be comforted easily enough. But tonight has bigger implications all _because _of that specific hazel-eyed, curly-haired modern Adonis.

When Blaine had sent Kurt a text two days ago asking what he had planned for that Friday night, Kurt sadly explained that he was busy with yet another fashion show (this one being a prestigious, small-scale runway show reminiscent of the fast upcoming NYFW show Kurt was hoping to score a spot in). Not two seconds later, his phone rang, Blaine's name lighting up the screen. Instead of the smooth voice he'd been expecting, a female's tone assaulted his ears with comments varying between: "You tapping my boy's Hobbit ass yet?" to "Hummel, give me the hook-up. I know you gots a show this weekend."

At first he felt completely shocked, more so at the voice than the words, until a shuffle occurred and suddenly Blaine was on the other end of the line, stumbling adorably over a stream of apologies and sympathetic explanations of his friend's personality being a bit much at first. He then went on to ask if it were at all possible for both he and Santana (his room0mate and best friend AKA the woman who had just spoken on the phone a moment ago) to attend his show but he perfectly understood if it was too short of notice or too presumptuous of a favor so earlier in their friendship (and for some reason that word stung).

Kurt had then quickly composed himself and assured Blaine he'd send two tickets to the address of Blaine's choice right away via e-mail or messenger, whichever would be more convenient. He could hear Santana crow triumphantly in the background and assumed he might be on speakerphone. But none of that mattered. Because he would be seeing Blaine again.

That incident is what led Kurt to his current one-man-hurricane state of being. Blaine would be seeing him in his element for the first time since they met. Kurt wanted nothing less than perfection.

Not that any of Kurt's previous shows were imperfect in any way (he made damn sure of that!), but Blaine's presence warrants an even higher level of class, elegance, and beauty than is the (already fairly high) Kurt Hummel standard. When Rachel (the woman followed him _everywhere_!) chose to point out the irony behind this, Kurt immediately had her taken out and barred from the backstage area. A bit of a dive move? Yes, but he's hyped up enough as it is and he definitely does _not_ need to add more fuel to the fire.

The worst part is Blaine hasn't shown up yet. Or if he has Kurt hasn't received any news confirming his presence. Fashion icons such as Heidi Klum and Kate Winslet sit in the audience and all he can think about is Blaine If that isn't infatuation of some kind, Kurt doesn't know what is.

_Relax, there's still two hours before the show. That's plenty of time for him to arrive._

But with New York City traffic, the security measures outside of the venue, and Kurt's relentless worries, that logical thought does nothing to reassure him.

* * *

"For the third goddamn time, stop fidgeting and hold still!" Blaine can hear the annoyance in Santana's voice and knows if he doesn't relax soon she'll probably kill him but he can't help himself. He's going to attend a renown collection show, where celebrities will be sitting in the same room. He's going to be sitting front row (thanks to his connections – well, _Kurt's _connections). And, most importantly in his opinion, Kurt will be there. Perfect, beautiful, talents, witty Kurt.

What does a person wear to such an event? As a college student working part-time at a cafe, he didn't own a suit. The majority of his closet consists of jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, and the occasional scarf. A freak-out would have been inevitable if not for Santana keeping him grounded.

He gasps as Santana tugs unnecessarily at the tie around his neck. Okay, maybe Santana keeping him grounded is a bit _un_lucky if you to stop to really think about it. But she means well, so Blaine doesn't mind putting up with the subsequent all that much.

"There. You look like a million bucks, all thanks to Auntie 'Tana." She steps back to look him over approvingly before turning him around to face her full-length mirror.

Blaine takes a second to really look at himself. He's never been the type to hate everything about his body but he's never loved a lot of it either. His hair is his biggest sore spot, mostly due to merciless teasing in his earlier years of education before he found solace in large amounts of hair gel. Somehow Santana's taken this into account during his mini-makeover.

Black slacks hug his thighs, looking tailored and sophisticated. A white short-sleeved button-up spans his chest, layered over with a black pinstriped vest he didn't know existed in his closet. To top off his upper half, a gray skinny tie and matching sport jacket meets his eyes. Other than the less-than-comforting amount of gel in his hair, Blaine can't find a single fault.

"Whoa."

"Whoa indeed, Blainers." Santana, in a body-hugging one-shouldered red dress and patent leather pumps bends down and picks up a pair of shiny black loafers. "And these shoes," she orders as an afterthought.

Blaine takes the proffered footwear and moves to sit n Santana's bed to put them on. As he ties the laces he comments offhandedly, "I never knew you were so stylish."

"I've been this good my entire life," she retorts. "You've just never noticed. Always too bust looking at Kurt Hummel's ass or Kurt' Hummel's eyes. Kurt Hummel's jeans or Kurt Hummel's scarf. Kurt Hummel's rosy lips, or his, I admit, prominent pack-"

"Okay. I get it. That's enough." Thankfully he interrupted just in time, even though the flush on his cheeks causes Santana to smirk, satisfied that she got her point across despite being shot down while simultaneously embarrassing the crap out of him.

"Alright, Short Stuff. Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

Kurt can't help his mouth dropping when he finally catches sight of Blaine walking into the room. His usually dapper appearance is somehow even more appealing and his normally gelled-to-death hair is instead floating freely around his temples, the curls Kurt knew to be hidden now showing themselves. They look _so soft_ and Kurt is filled with this desperate urge to run his fingers through the strands.

Blaine approaches him slowly, as if he too is in disbelief that this is actually happening. They're both here, in this filled-to-the-maximum venue, and Kurt thinks his eyes mirror Blaine's expression of awe.

At Blaine's side is a Latina dressed in a stunning red gown, but even that can't hold Kurt's attention for long. His eyes inadvertently take in Blaine's figure: the toned biceps, the fluffy eyebrows, the long lashes, all of it.

"Hey," Blaine breathes. And when did he get to be so close?

"Hey," Kurt returns, feeling equally breathless if not more so.

They look at each other openly, no words shared between them but the tension bordering on sexual lingers strongly in the air. His hand unconsciously moves up to run its fingers through Blaine's hair and it's just as soft as he imagined it would be. Blaine makes a quiet mewling sound and Kurt wonders what other sounds Blaine can make...

"Sorry to break up this love-fest," says a voice Kurt assumes must be Santana, "but the show must go on. They're waiting for you out there, Hummel."

They're both jolted out of the world they'd be enveloped in, Blaine more so as he pulls away from Kurt's touch. Kurt sighs internally that the moment had to end. But, as Santana said, he has people waiting for him.

"Right," he says, hoping his voice displays his disappointment to Blaine. By the knowing smile on Blaine's face, he thinks he's succeeded. "I'll see you to your seats?" he suggests hopefully.

Blaine nods immediately. "That would be great."

Santana sighs but decides to not point out their corny need to still be near each other even though they're "just friends." She knows they both want more, and Hummel doesn't seem too bad. "Lead the way, Porcelain."

Kurt quirks an eyebrow at the name but resolutely shakes his head before turning around and flourishing his hand in a gesture for them to walk forward. There's not much room to maneuver between the rows of chairs and the clumps of people so Blaine steps to his side while Santana follows behind.

After a few minutes of silence, other than the mass of murmurs and laughter from the people surrounding them on all sides, they arrive at the front row on the left of the runway. At the end of the row two chairs are covered in red fabric, the words _Blaine Anderson and guest _spread across the span of two seats in a elegant, flowing cursive font. Kurt removes the sign, handing it to Blaine to keep as a souvenir if he so wishes ("We can sell that on eBay for big bucks," Santana comments idly, to which Blaine glares), before gracefully swiping the red fabric away to reveal two hard plastic, black chairs. But unlike the other chairs in the room these two also have a large black cushion.

"Sorry," Kurt smiles apologetically at the duo before him. "It's the best I could do on short notice."

"It's not a problem," Blaine instantly reassures.

"Next time I expect the VIP treatment," Santana quips before plopping herself down onto the small seat, somehow managing to look high-class as she does so. Both boys blush unintentionally at the mention of _next time_, which implies there will be at least one repeat of this experience some time in the future. Just the thought of it makes Kurt's stomach squirm happily.

Blaine lowers himself into his seat, the blush still fading from his cheeks as he turns to look at his roommate pointedly. Santana merely shrugs before turning her gaze away to the runway.

"Good luck out there tonight," Blaine murmurs when he returns his eyes to Kurt.

"Thanks," Kurt returns. They shared a look before Kurt resigns himself to leaving Blaine for the moment. "See you in a bit."

Kurt walks away, glancing back just one to send Blaine a small smile.

* * *

"And you say you're _not _pathetic?" Santana laughs as soon as Kurt's out of earshot.

"Shut up."

Santana's just about to say something else when the lights dim and the background noise they'd become accustomed to completely silences. They both turn to look expectantly at the runway and smile when Kurt struts out. Santana because she admires the guy's spunk and Blaine because... well, to put it simply, Kurt looks _hot._

In that moment he actually notices the scenery: pulsing lights, a black backdrop, and every other square of glass on the runway is lit a different color. There's a spotlight shining down on Kurt as he reaches the end of the catwalk. Blaine almost wonders what the theme for Kurt's show will be but then he realizes he should probably listen to what Kurt's saying up there rather than just watch like someone caught in a trance.

"Hello everyone. Welcome to the show. Tonight's theme was inspired by an event from my youth. I hope you enjoy." _Well, that was anticlimactic and short_, Blaine thinks to himself as he politely applauds along with everyone else while Kurt returns backstage.

A few seconds after Kurt disappears behind the black curtain, a familiar song fills the air and Blaine can't help but snort to himself. Before he can comment on it to Santana, the first model is walking down the runway.

_Baby girl, where you at?  
Got no strings, got men attached  
Can't stop that feelin' for long, no  
Mmm, you makin' dogs wanna beg  
Breakin' them off your fancy legs  
But they make you feel right at home, now_

The first model is an awkwardly tall man with brown hair wearing a tailored black suit. Honestly, Blaine has no idea how this guy is considered a model. His steps are hesitant and when he reaches the end of the runway he looks really confused for a second before turning around and heading back. _He does look good in the suit though_, Blaine admits to himself.

Oh, see all these illusions just take us too long  
And I want it bad...  
Because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty  
'Cause you make me sick, and I'm not leavin' till you're leavin'

Next comes a curvy girl with dark skin and wild curls. It makes Blaine feel a bit better about his own locks for a second. She wearing a stylish orange bodysuit with bright pink high-heels. She sways down the catwalk self-assuredly, a bright smile lighting her features. Apparently not all models walk with a blank face. Blaine admires her confidence.

_Oh, I swear there's something when she's pumpin', askin' for a raise  
Well does she want me to carry her home now?  
So does she want me to buy her things?  
On my house, on my job  
On my loot, shoes, my shirt, my crew, my mind  
My father's last name?_

Following her is a pale-skinned girl with long black hair containing fashionable blue highlights. She's wearing a short, black skirt studded with spikes and a long, graceful white tunic. She also carries a dark blue tote bag. Her eyes scream Asian lineage but Blaine doesn't want to assume. On her feet lay a pair of midnight blue wedges. He likes the splash of color the blue lends to the outfit.

_When I get you alone  
When I get you you'll know, babe  
When I get you alone  
When I get you alone_

Oh, come on  
Yeah, yeah

After the Asian girl's departure, a tanned man with his hair styled in a Mohawk walks out onto the runway. He wears skintight dark-wash jeans, a brown leather jacket over a fitted white t-shirt, and black combat boots. He swaggers down the path like he owns the place, winking at the audience before turning around to go backstage.

Blaine takes a minute to try to find any type of connection between the outfits or the models, but finds none. Each model had been different as well as each outfit. The only thing they have in common is... their differences. And that's when Blaine thinks he's gets the gist of it all.

_Baby girl you the shit  
That makes you my equivalent  
Well you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight, all right  
All my dawgs talkin' fast:  
Ain't you got some photographs?  
'Cause you shook that room like a star, now  
Yes you did, yes you did_

Following the Mohawk-ed man's departure, a man with yellow-ish hair and large lips walks out. In that moment Blaine realizes how the lights accentuate everything, leaving nothing out of sight. He wonders how these people, with their obvious "flaws," can so confidently walk under those lights. He wonders if he'd ever be able to.

He shakes his head of the thought and appreciates the guy's outfit. Kurt's range is design is far and wide and it shows here tonight. The model wears light-wash jeans, loosely floating around his ankles. His torso displays a plaid button-up consisting of shades of gray. Somehow Kurt made Blaine want to wear plaid, which is not something he ever imagined happening. The model gives a lopsided smile and then he's gone.

_All these intrusions just take us too long  
And I want you so bad...  
Because you walk city, because you talk city  
'Cause you make me sick, and I'm not leavin' till you're leavin' _

A willowy blonde follows, dressed in a whimsical flower-printed summer dress and white flats. Her hair is tied back in a strict ponytail but somehow she manages to come across as innocent and young. She smiles dreamily out at the crowd as she flounces to the end of the runway, pausing to strike a pose before turning back around and returning to whence she came.

Blaine turns to look at Santana, ready to share comments, but what he sees surprises him. The fiery woman he's known for so long has an expression Blaine has never seen on her face before: awe. Her eyes follow the model on the runway and she subconsciously licks her lips, which Blaine knows is the universal sign for attraction where Santana is concerned.

Definitely something he'll be bringing up later.

_So I pray to something she ain't bluffin', rubbin' up on me  
Well does she want me to make a vow?  
Check it, well does she want me to make it now?  
On my house, on my job  
On my loot, shoes, my voice, my crew, my mind  
My father's last name? _

The stream of models emerge, clapping and nodding their heads to the beat. The audience applauds enthusiastically, Blaine included, as Kurt brings up the rear.

_When I get you alone  
When I get you you'll know, babe  
When I get you alone  
When I get you alone_

They all take a collective bow before the models push Kurt to the front, wolf-whistling. Kurt flushes but takes another bow, waving gracefully before raising a hand to silent request for everyone to quiet down.

"Thank you all, so much, for taking time out of your lives to see a few of my visions come true here tonight. My models and I will be staying around for a few minutes to answer any questions you may have about the line. We've provided drinks and snacks at the back of the room. Feel free to stay for a few minutes longer if you'd like. And, once again, thank you for coming out tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show and found a piece you'd be interested in." With that Kurt and the models hop off the stage and wander into the crowd to mingle.

Santana stands from her seat, her body trembling minutely as she fights, what Blaine assumes to be, the urge to run off after that blonde model. But even Santana has manners so she waits as Kurt slowly makes his way through his adoring crowd and over to the two of them.

"You were amazing," Blaine says as soon as Kurt's within hearing distance.

Kurt shakes his head but gives out a 'thanks' anyway. "It's all them. All I do is make the clothing, but they're the ones who bring it to life."

"Think you can introduce us to them?" Santana interjects. She receives odd looks from both men but shrugs it off. "Just a thought."

Kurt looks at her a bit longer but eventually lets it go. "Sure. Come on."

He hesitates for just a second before grabbing Blaine's hand. Blaine feels a spark run through his veins and when Kurt looks at him questioningly he merely smiles and squeezes Kurt's hand gently. Kurt smiles back and begins to pull them through the crowd toward the refreshments table where all the models are currently standing around chatting with each other, Santana following determinedly behind them.

The boys look up first upon their arrival, followed by curious glances from the girls between Kurt and Blaine. Blaine feels inordinately nervous all of a sudden.

"Hey guys. This is Blaine. And that's his friend slash roommate Santana."

At the mention of his name every face turns from suspicious and curious to knowing and amused. Blaine wonders what that's all about but before he can think on it any longer he's being told everyone's names and starts to pay attention.

"That's Finn over there." The awkward model guy that Blaine remembers as being first on the runway waves at them from where he's stuffing a finger sandwich into his mouth. "He eats a lot," Kurt adds aside. "Next to him would be Puck, the one with the Mohawk, and Sam, the too-blond-to-be-true one." Both men give a 'hello,' Sam's acknowledgment accompanied by a glare in Kurt's direction. Kurt simply laughs before resuming. "The diva-licious woman to his right is Mercedes." The black woman surprises Blaine with a tight embrace. "Next to her is Tina, and last but not at all least is Brittany." Both the Asian woman and the infamous blonde who captured Santana's attention turn away from their conversation to send a brief smile in his direction. "And that's everyone."

Santana nods at Kurt, squeezes Blaine's shoulder, and then walks over to Brittany leaving Kurt and Blaine to themselves. For a moment Blaine's worried about letting Santana loose on someone who seems so innocent and naïve, but he decides Sanatna is a big girl who knows where the boundaries are. Besides, he's never seen her look so tenderly at someone before.

"Looks like someone took a liking to Brittany," Kurt comments when they're alone.

"She has," Blaine agrees. "I've never seen her like that before."

"I hope it works out for them," Kurt muses.

"I know I've already said this before, but you were amazing tonight," Blaine finds himself saying after a few seconds of tentative silence.

"Yeah, let's just hope everyone else here thinks so too."

"Have you gotten your new line picked up yet?" Blaine inquires.

"Not as of yet," Kurt replies sadly, "hence this show."

"I'm sure someone would be honored to have your designs on their shelves." Blaine can't help but adamantly believe that. It's _Kurt_, after all. Who wouldn't want him?

"We'll see."

They spend the next fifteen minutes talking about little things, keeping Kurt resolutely distracted from any negative thoughts. They're interrupted only twice, once when Rachel storms in and huffs in Kurt's face before storming away again without a word, and again when a man Blaine's never heard of comes over to praise Kurt's work. Blaine loves the look that overtakes Kurt's face when he talks passionately about upcoming trends.

Another thirty minutes passes by like a fast-moving river before Santana is once again by their sides, this time with Brittany in tow. The two are grinning softly and Blaine can't help smiling in return. It's so nice to see Santana happy for once, honestly and genuinely happy.

"What do you say we bust out of this joint and take ourselves somewhere fun?" Santana declares with a lewd grin.

"Sure, why not?" Kurt shrugs. And then the four of them are leaving and hailing a cab outside in the cool, thick New York City air.

* * *

_**A/N: And there it is! Some implied Brittana that I just couldn't resist as well as a certain song I just couldn't resist as well as some ND familiar faces I just couldn't resist.**_

_**The song is (obviously) "When I Get You Alone" originally performed by Robin Thicke and covered by The Warblers on an infamous episode of Glee.**_

_**Reviews would be wonderful. Whether they say you love me or hate me, I don't mind. If you have a comment or a question or a suggestion or an idea for the story, FEEL FREE TO LET ME KNOW. :]**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Okay so honestly this is mostly a filler chapter. But stuff happens! It's a little short, but I take what I can get when my muse is being skittish.  
**_

_**I want to thank everyone so much for getting this story above 100 alerts... such a huge milestone for me and the story.**_

_**Santana has become a big plot device, so I hope you guys don't mind that. I'm sticking to Klaine the most I can.**_

_**Read. **__**Enjoy. **__**Review... You know the drill.**_

_**Also, if you see any errant slashes (/ or /), that just means I missed them in my read-over. They're just to imply the use of italics so don't let it worry you. (I've learned I'm very fond of italics.)**_

_**-Song disclaimers at the bottom of the chapter.-**_

* * *

The bright lights hurt his eyes as Kurt took Blaine's hand and stepped out of the cab onto the slowly darkening New York City street. Whoever said chivalry is dead, obviously doesn't know Blaine Anderson.

"Are you okay, Kurt? You look a little dizzy," Blaine comments concernedly as he wraps a steady arm around Kurt's waist for just a second to give Kurt time to find his balance. Kurt almost whines aloud when the gentle touch is removed.

Kurt sends him a small smile in thanks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really bright at first, you know?"

Blaine nods. "Sorry. Santana tend to gravitate towards the flashy places."

Kurt laughs when he sees Santana already at the door to the club, waving them in while Brittany stands next to her. "She works fast," he comments jokingly.

"That she does," Blaine agrees. "Shall we?"

Kurt nods, resisting the urge to take Blaine's hand in his. _This is not a date,_ he tells himself.

They walk past the disgruntled young adults still standing in the relatively long line (it nearly reaches the end of the block), shoulders nearly brushing from their close proximity. Kurt uses his resolve to keep his breathing calm in hopes of not giving away his inner feelings.

Santana grins at them when they approach, looking down at their unlaced hands with a quick frown. She keeps her thoughts to herself though (for once) and instead wordlessly leads them through the thick double doors and into the club's interior.

Once inside an onslaught of blinking lights, deafening music, and the dense scent of sweat hits Kurt's senses. He instinctively shifts closer to Blaine's side, not even realizing what he's done until Blaine tentatively wraps his fingers around Kurt's in a comforting squeeze. Kurt turns to look at him, into the nervous shifting eyes he's come to adore the color of, and waits until he has Blaine's gaze before mouthing, "Thank you." Blaine smiles and his fingers slide through Kurt's, almost possessively, and Kurt can't help but smile back.

They follow Santana's quickly moving form to the opposite side of the club where a long metal counter serves as the bar. Brittany is already comfortably seated on a chrome bar stool with Santana standing protectively beside her by the time they arrive.

"What'll it be?" asks the fairly handsome bartender. His chocolate brown hair falls boyishly over his dark blue eyes and Kurt thinks that if he weren't with Blaine right now, maybe this guy could have caught his interest.

"Four tequila shots, for starters," Santana replies. She then looks over her should at the two boys. "Appletini and Jack on the rocks?" she inquires with a knowing look in Blaine's direction.

"I don't drink," Kurt interjects quickly. He's had too many mishaps with alcohol in his lifetime and he most certainly does not want Blaine as a witness to another one.

"Come on, Hummel," Santana chastises gently. "That Appletini is screaming your name!"

"Santana," Blaine warns when he feels Kurt tense beside him.

Kurt turns to Blaine, with a curious look on his flawless features, and inquires, "Are you drinking?"

Blaine feels almost like this is a test of some sort. Will Kurt hate him if he says yes? Will Kurt think him less of a man if he says no? Will Kurt think Blaine only says no in an effort to stay on his good side? He can feel the anxiety creeping in, his hands starting to sweat as a multitude of possibilities run through his mind. He doesn't even know if he can speak right now, yet alone say the words Kurt wants to hear.

He's saved though when Kurt says, "Appletini it is. But I swear Satan, you better go light on the alcohol."

Blaine holds his breath. _No one_ has ever called Santana a nickname so early after meeting her, especially without her verbal permission. Hell, even Blaine had to wait nearly a year before he could safely call her San with no repercussions.

Santana stares at Kurt motionlessly for a full three seconds that seems far longer to Blaine before her mouth splits into a one-sided smirk. "I knew I liked you for a reason," she directs at Kurt before turning back to the bartender and ordering the second half of their drinks. "Put the tab under Jesse St. James," she adds with a grin.

"You got it," the man behind the bar says before walking off to make their drinks.

"San," Blaine scolds halfheartedly. St. James is a well-off, smart-mouthed guy that lives in their building who enjoys giving Santana a hard time whenever they cross paths in the hallways or laundry room.

Santana merely flicks her hair back and shrugs, not feeling or looking sorry in the slightest. "He made his choices, Blainers," she reminds.

Kurt snorts. "I'm guessing this Jesse guy is none too bright if he thinks getting on Santana's bad side is a good idea."

Blaine nods and Santana sports that one-sided smirk again. "You're alright, Kurt," she says before grabbing her and Brittany's drinks and whisking the blonde away in the direction of the dance floor, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing alone at the bar.

Blaine, ever the gentleman, thanks the bartender and hands Kurt his Appletini before grabbing his own glass. Kurt takes it from him, feeling a flash of warmth as his fingers inevitably brush over Blaine's.

Blaine cocks his head in the direction of a miraculously unoccupied table (the club is unbelievably packed) and Kurt nods his assent, following wordlessly as Blaine leads the way.

Kurt scrunches his nose as they reach their destination. Not only is the black tablecloth completely tacky and made from _polyester _of all things, but there's also a handful of debris scattered over the tabletop. Blaine looks up from where he's already seated himself and takes in Kurt's look of disgust with a fond smile.

Before Kurt can even voice his displeasure, Blaine sweeps the tablecloth off of the table and wipes the revealed dark oak with a napkin he'd grabbed from a nearby server. He walks to Kurt, pulls out his chair for him, and smiles invitingly while the dumbstruck designer slowly takes his seat. (Again, chivalry is not dead when you're with Blaine Anderson.)

They sit in silence while sipping their drinks, letting the bass from the dub-step music blasting from the speakers throughout the club envelope them and pour through the soles of their shoes up into their veins. It's not Kurt's style really, but he can appreciate the beat if nothing else.

"So, I was wondering if I could ask you a question," Blaine divulges quietly, leaning forward onto his elbows as to be heard more easily.

Kurt copies his stance and responds, "Shoot." He can smell Blaine's cologne now, a light mist of sandalwood and mandarin (and somehow the scents work together). A sigh involuntarily escapes his lips.

"How do you do it?"

Kurt quirks a brow. "Do what exactly?"

"Look as marvelous as you do, speak with such eloquence, sit and stand with such poise, just... everything really."

Kurt waits for Blaine to laugh, to smile impishly, even to look away embarrassed from the words that just spilled from his mouth, but Blaine does none of those things. He simply looks at Kurt like he's the earth, the moon, and the stars all wrapped into one. He cocks his head to the side when Kurt simply stares in return. _How does Blaine so easily say things like that?_

"Because they're true," Blaine declares. Slowly Kurt realizes her said that last thought aloud. And... now he's blushing.

"I'm sorry. Am I too much? Should I just shut up and never talk again?" Blaine utters, obviously feeling horrible about making Kurt seem so uncomfortable.

"No, no," Kurt reassures. "I'm just... not used to compliments like that," he admits. He pauses, but decides to say what's in his mind. Blaine wouldn't judge him anyway. "Are you even real?"

Blaine laughs, loud and boisterous, before he remembers his surroundings and cuts himself short. "Sorry. That was just _so_ corny."

Kurt laughs too, because yeah that kind of was ridiculous. "Says the guy streaming out flattery," Kurt counters.

Blaine shrugs. "Can't help the truth."

Suddenly the music in the background stops completely, dragging their attention away from each other and over to the DJ booth in the center of the stage. There they see none other than Santana, grinning out into the crowd with Brittany wrapped in her arms. (Blaine thinks he's never seen her smile so much, _ever._)

"Alright," Santana exclaims into the microphone, the poor DJ looking on helplessly from the sidelines. "This next song is for two special lovebirds out there and I swear if you two don't get up and dance I will personally have you dismembered tonight when you go to bed." With that, a slow song spills into their ears, one they're both very familiar with for different reasons.

Kurt lowers his head to the table, his face flush. "Oh God."

Blaine reaches across the table and places his hands comfortingly on top of Kurt's. "She's a lot to handle, I know. But she really just wants the best for us. Besides, if we don't get up sometime soon, she will kill us in our sleep."

Kurt sighs resignedly, allowing Blaine to pull him to his feet and lead him out to the dance floor. Once they find a respectable spot, away from the people still grinding frantically despite the music change, they take up the position of a waltz. Blaine's hand on the small of Kurt's back, Kurt's on Blaine's compact but somehow broad shoulder. Their other hands intertwine between them, resting gently in the air.

As Blaine starts to sway, Kurt follows his lead, allowing himself to drown in the melody floating around them.

_There's a calm surrender, to the rush of day_  
_When the heat of a rolling wind, can be turned away_  
_An enchanted moment, and it sees me through_  
_It's enough for this restless warrior, just to be with you_

_And can you feel, the love, tonight_  
_It is where we are_  
_It's enough, for this wide-eyed wanderer_  
_That we got this far_

_And can you feel, the love, tonight_  
_How it's laid to rest_  
_It's enough, to make kings and vagabonds_  
_Believe the very best_

_There's a time for everyone, if they only learn_  
_That the twisting kaleidoscope, moves us all in turn_  
_There's a rhyme and reason, to the wild outdoors_  
_When the heart of this star-crossed voyager, beats in time with yours_

_And can you feel, the love, tonight_  
_It is where we are_  
_It's enough, for this wide-eyed wanderer_  
_That we got this far_

_And can you feel, the love, tonight_  
_How it's laid to rest_  
_It's enough, to make kings and vagabonds_  
_Believe the very best_

"Is it ironic that she picked a Disney song, or does she have some secret obsession I don't know about yet?" Kurt asks as the song slowly fades away.

"Probably a bit of both," Blaine replies, already feeling the loss of warmth when Kurt starts to move away.

Again, Santana's voice blares into the air. "Not so fast, Hummel. One more dance for Satan, and then you'll be on your own." Right as she finishes speaking, another soft song begins to play. Kurt groans when he recognizes it.

"Jo Bros? Really?"

Blaine pulls Kurt back into his arms. "Shh. Just dance with me."

_If the heart is always searching,_  
_Can you ever find a home?_  
_I've been looking for that someone,_  
_I'll never make it on my own._  
_Dreams can't take the place of loving you,_  
_There's gotta be a million reasons why it's true._

_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_And tell me that you love me._  
_Everything's alright,_  
_When you're right here by my side._  
_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_I catch a glimpse of heaven._  
_I find my paradise,_  
_When you look me in the eyes._

Kurt can't tear his eyes away from Blaine's expressive hazel orbs. Would it be weird to drown in them, in the midst of all these strangers? And those lyrics... it's like Santana knew of his feelings and picked this song on purpose, hoping to push Kurt into taking action. Because all those words ring true where Blaine is concerned.

_How long will I be waiting_  
_To be with you again?_  
_Gonna tell you that I love you,_  
_In the best way that I can._  
_I can't take a day without you here,_  
_You're the light that makes my darkness disappear._

_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_And tell me that you love me._  
_Everything's alright,_  
_When you're right here by my side._  
_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_I catch a glimpse of heaven._  
_I find my paradise,_  
_When you look me in the eyes._

Blaine slips his arms around Kurt's waist, watching vigilantly for any sign that he's making Kurt uncomfortable or moving too fast. Kurt merely slides his arms up and around Blaine's neck, leaning into him as they dance languidly. It's one of the best feelings Blaine has ever experienced, having Kurt so near that he can virtually feel his body heat through their clothes.

He wants to yell at Santana for interfering so blatantly, but he can't help feeling grateful towards her too. He wishes he could tell Kurt the truth, that he's falling in love with this perfect guy even so soon after meeting him in person. Kurt is everything Blaine always imagined he'd be: smart, witty, compassionate, beautiful inside and out.

Maybe he's moving too fast; maybe he hasn't even scratched the surface yet of the person that is Kurt Hummel. But that doesn't matter. He wants to know more, be more, do more, say more, whenever Kurt is around. He wants to attend every single one of Kurt's shows and applaud the loudest. He wants to be able to have the ability to see or talk to Kurt whenever he wants without the need for an excuse to spend more time with him.

And this song... well, it says it all.

_More and more I start to realize,_  
_I can reach my tomorrow,_  
_I can hold my head up high,_  
_And it's all because you're by my side._

So Blaine does what he never thought he'd do in a million years. He stares right into Kurt's eyes, channeling all the love and admiration he has for this man standing in his arms, and leans forward, closing the distance between them and leaving his lips hovering mere centimeters from Kurt's. He won't take this decision from him. He wants Kurt to close the remaining distance... or not, if he so chooses. Blaine really hopes Kurt kisses him though.

_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_And tell me that you love me._  
_Everything's alright,_  
_When you're right here by my side._  
_When I hold you in my arms,_  
_I know that it's forever._  
_I just gotta let you know,_  
_I never wanna let you go._

The look in Blaine's eyes as he leans forward is mesmerizing. Kurt can't look away despite the rush of the inner battle going on between his mind and his heart. He knows it's risky, _stupid and naive,_ to think he and Blaine can have even a semblance of a normal romantic relationship. His heart is yearning for this, just one touch, one little peck. Kurt feels himself leaning forward subconsciously but doesn't stop himself. This is his chance.

_When you look me in the eyes._  
_And tell me that you love me._  
_Everything's alright,_  
_When you're right here by my side._  
_When you look me in the eyes,_  
_I catch a glimpse of heaven._  
_I find my paradise,_  
_When you look me in the eyes._

The entire world around them quiets. Everything stands still except for two pounding hearts. It feels like years as Kurt slowly leans closer and closer, his mouth quivering with anticipation. He can feels Blaine's breath, sweet and mixed with the scent of whiskey, fan hotly over his lips. God, he wants to kiss him so badly. And he realizes he can, that Blaine is literally _right there,_ waiting and willing.

And just as their lips are about to meet, the moment is ruined by a man staggering drunkenly right into Kurt's back, sending the lithe designer headfirst into Blaine's abdomen. The shove nearly sends them both falling to the floor, but Blaine holds his footing just at the last moment.

Blaine instantly circles his arms protectively around Kurt as to assist him in regaining his balance. He's never felt the need to hate anyone before, but right now the man standing before them and slurring an apology is unknowingly the first to invoke such an emotion. Blaine hates his glazed over eyes and his sweat stained outfit. He hates the man for ruining his perfect moment, his one true chance with Kurt. He glances over at Kurt and sees the disappointment in the blue-green eyes.

"It's fine," Kurt insists, as the man still stands spluttering apologies. Even in his inebriated state it seems he knows he interrupted something important.

The guy nods sheepishly and walks off, glancing back one last time with an apologetic look.

Kurt shakes his head and falls into the nearest chair without even looking. His eyes are glued to the floor and for a second Blaine wonders if Kurt regrets almost kissing him. But that can't be true. Why would Kurt have leaned in if he didn't want it just as much?

"I'm sorry I ruined our moment," Kurt whispers. Blaine just about misses the words, said so quietly in such a noisy environment, but he's become so attuned to Kurt in the last few minutes that he hears each word along with the dismay infused with them.

Blaine falls to his knees before him, resting a hand tenderly on Kurt's knee. "You didn't ruin anything. I thought it was perfect," he proclaims, adding slyly, "until the clumsy slob came along."

Kurt giggles just a tiny bit and Blaine basks in the fact that he could make Kurt feel even just that little bit better about the situation.

In that moment Santana approaches with a sad smile on her face. "Sorry to break up the love-fest, but Blainey has a mid-term in the morning and he'd kill me if I didn't remind him. Besides, I'm the one who has to deal with his crankiness in the morning, so I know best." She pauses, looks at Kurt with an impish grin. "Unless you'd like to take over my duties?" she suggests with a lewd waggle of her eyebrows.

Kurt lets out a laugh, ultimately grateful for Santana and her particular sense of humor. "I would, but, alas, I have things to take care of as well."

"That settles it then. Sorry Blanderson. Time to go."

Blaine rolls his eyes fondly at his roommate. "Don't I get a chance to say bye?" he requests with an over-dramatic pout added in for good measure.

"Make it quick." Santana steps away, leaving them with a semblance of privacy to say their farewells.

"It was great seeing you again, Kurt."

"Yeah, definitely. We should see each other again sometime," Kurt replies, the _soon_ in his thoughts thoroughly implied.

"How about next weekend?"

Kurt shoulders slump in spite of Blaine's hopefulness. "Can't. Family dinner."

Blaine's shoulders droop and he nods. "I understand. Maybe some other time."

Kurt hates that look on Blaine's usually joyful face. So he does something he probably shouldn't have. "You should come." Seeing the look on Blaine's face, he quickly adds, "If you want."

Inside, Blaine is jumping up and down like a five year old on Christmas morning. Outside, he smiles a megawatt smile. "That would be great. I'd love to meet your dad and step-mom."

Kurt raises a brow curiously before saying, "Interviews?" to which Blaine nods guiltily. "That is so unfair! You know so much more about me than I know about you," Kurt complains teasingly.

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we?" Blaine murmurs with a secretive smile.

"NOW, Blaine. Or I'll leave without you," Santana shouts from the doorway. Blaine didn't even notice she'd gotten the far away already.

"Duty calls," he sighed. "But text me the time and the place. I'll be there."

Kurt promises to do so and the duo shares a quick hug before Blaine departs, leaving Kurt with Brittany as company.

"You two make a cute couple," Brittany points out as they walk toward the door to catch a ride home of their own.

Kurt thanks her as he pulls out his cell phone to call for his driver. Usually he's only needed for special events, but right now Kurt doesn't want to feel the unfamiliar eyes of a cabbie on him while he relishes his time with Blaine. They almost kissed!

"Thanks, Britt."

"And I call dibs of being fairy godmother to your future unicorn babies."

Kurt laughs but nods all the same. "I couldn't imagine it being anyone else."

* * *

_**A/N: THEY ALMOST KISSED FJDHFALKSJHDASD!**_

_**Songs used: "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" - Elton John and "When You Look Me in the Eyes" - Jonas Brothers**_

_**Both songs are ones I'm very attached to because I just really love the emotion in them.**_

_**ANYWAY, if you liked it or loved it or hated it or thought it was okay... if you thought something was missing or something was too much or something didn't fit right... please feel more than free to let me know. Feel obligated to, if that suits you. Oh, and just for the record, I'd really appreciate ANYTHING you have to say.  
**_

_**Next chapter: [[if all goes according to plan]] Blaine meets Kurt's family and also the scarring image of Burt with a shotgun.**_

_**See you guys next time! ((lessthanthree))**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on this story! I've gotten quite a few guest reviews, so I'll just answer those really quickly before going on to the story.**_

_Chrisch: Thank you for reviewing, first of all. And in answer to your question, I love that idea and I tried to incorporate it into the next few chapters._  
_Veronica: I'm not entirely sure if I've mentioned it yet or not (I'm sort of a scatterbrain) but just in case I haven't, in my mind Blaine is around 20 and Kurt is around 24. (I say around because I haven't decided on their birthdays yet.)_  
_Blaine3Kurt: You're review made me smile and laugh a little, so thank you for that. I'm sorry for annoying you, but I also have to say they won't be kissing for another few chapters at least._

_**Lots of dialogue in this one. This was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be just because of some writer's block I couldn't get over. Sorry it took so long to get posted.  
**_

_**When you get to the song part, italics is Rachel and bold italics is Kurt.**_

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up at the airport?" Kurt asks for the fifth time. He should have known his father wouldn't change his mind.

"No, kiddo. Carole and I are just fine taking a cab to your place. You just worry about making the floors shine before I get there."

Kurt rolls his eyes even though no one's around to see. "Alright. When are you getting here again?"

"Around three, which gives you four hours."

"Right. I can't wait to see you," he admits. His father is one weak spot Kurt will gladly admit to.

"Same here, son. And you were saying we'll be hosting a guest?"

"Oh, yeah. Blaine. He's really excited to meet you guys." Which is really only half true seeing as Blaine is scared shitless after Brittany causally mentioned Burt's fondness for shotguns.

"He treating you right?"

Kurt feels his cheeks flush. "_Dad._ We're not _together_."

"Yet," Burt adds, making Kurt wonder if his father inherited a mother's ability to read minds. "You can deny it if you want, Kurt, but I know you."

"No comment."

"Mhmm, I thought so," Burt replies with a smug smile Kurt can feel through the line. "Just remember that you matter, okay?"

"I know, Dad."

"Good. See you soon then. Love you."

"Love you too Dad. Send my regards to Carole."

When Kurt hangs up the phone he has this intense urge to call Blaine. Just to talk to him, to hear his deep, musical laugh, to know what he's doing in that exact moment. _Not creepy at all,_ Kurt thinks to himself.

After staring down at his phone for five full minutes, Kurt decides to throw caution to the wind and just call. It's going on noon so hopefully he's not interrupting anything.

He slides his finger down to hover over Blaine's name in his contacts list, hesitating just one more second before pressing down on the call button.

He waits impatiently as it rings, his heart pounding and his mind reminding him how stupid this is. He doesn't have any reason to be this nervous about a simple phone call, yet he is. And that tells him everything.

After the fourth dial tone, the call picks up with a shuffling noise followed by a breathless, "Hello?" The voice is the exact one Kurt's been dying to hear.

"Hey, Blaine. It's me."

"Oh, Kurt. Hi."

"Hi."

There's an awkward pause, followed by laughter.

"Wow, I thought we'd be past the awkward stage by now," Blaine laughs.

"Guess not," Kurt chuckles.

"Is something wrong?" The concern fills Blaine's voice so effortlessly that Kurt's torn between crying and smiling.

"No, everything's great. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess."

"All you have to do is ask."

"Blaine, may I hear your voice?" Kurt bats his eyelashes for effect, using his sweet and innocent voice.

"What?" Kurt can't hold it in any longer and bursts with giggles. "I didn't mean literally, Kurt," Blaine admonished good-naturedly.

"I know. I just couldn't help myself."

"Has your dad arrived yet?"

"Not for a few more hours. Why? Are you nervous?"

"Um, yeah. He has a shotgun, Kurt."

"He's on a plane. They wouldn't let him bring it on board," Kurt points out logically. Maybe logic will speak to Blaine's frayed nerves.

"Maybe, but he still has one. Registered under his name. He could use it if he wanted to."

Kurt rolls his eyes and sighs. "I promise to not let any harm come to you."

"I'll hold you to that."

"You are still coming, right?" Kurt hates the fact that his voice is so small, so insecure.

"Of course," Blaine assures. "I would never drop out on you."

Kurt smiles despite knowing that promises like that don't last forever. "Good."

"Should I bring something?"

"Just you."

"You sure? Maybe a bottle of wine or something? I could have Santana pick it up."

"Wait... why would Santana have to pick it up?"

"Kurt, how old do you think I am?"

Kurt places his finger to his chin in his patented "thinking position" as he ponders back over their conversations. Never once had age been mentioned. Blaine's in college so he has to be at least 18 by normal standards, but he seems so much older than that. And they had gotten into that bar so easily that Kurt just assumed... "So, you're not 21?"

"Close, but not as of yet."

"But the bar -"

"Santana knows a guy."

"Then -"

"Yep, by a year."

"But -"

"Does that bother you?"

"No, no. Of course not. It's not like you're a decade younger than me or some other insane number."

"What is the number anyway?"

"Four."

"Which means you're 24?"

"That's correct."

"Wow."

"Wow what?"

"You're only 24 yet you're this huge fashion icon. You've got your whole life ahead of you and you've already been through so much. It's just... inspiring."

Kurt resists the blush rising on his cheeks. He doesn't know if it'll ever stop. "So you don't think I'm too old?"

"No! Of course not. Kurt, I think you're beautiful. Age is just a number anyway."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Um... yes?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"A... statement?"

"Blaine!"

"Yes, I think you're insanely attractive."

"Thank you."

"You must hear that all the time though," Blaine comments dismissively.

"Not as often as you'd think."

"No guys falling at your doorstep?" Blaine teases.

"Just you," Kurt returns. He doesn't really realize his words until there's no response from Blaine. "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Oh God. Please don't hate me."

"No, no. It's fine. You just caught me off guard."

"I am never going to forgive myself for that. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I'll just stop talking."

"Kurt, it's _fine._ Besides, you kind of have a point."

"What?"

"We almost kissed. Isn't that enough of a clue?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Um..."

"Need me to let you go?" Blaine proffers graciously. Kurt has never felt more mortified. Should he be happy that Blaine can read him so well already after their limited amount of time together, or worried that Blaine can see right through him so easily? He's never experienced this with anyone but his dad before.

"Yeah. Sorry. See you later?"

"I'll be there at three, as promised. Bye, Kurt."

"Bye."

Kurt turns to glance at the clock mounted on his wall, thanking any deity in existence that there's still enough time left for him to clean up before his dad arrives. Finn should be coming in any minute with Rachel. He can have the two of them take care of the guest room while he focuses on getting the food ready. Burt is bound to be tired and hungry by the time he steps foot into the apartment.

After landing his first big check, Kurt decided to rent out a beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park. It cost a pretty penny each month, considering the size and location, but Kurt loved it too much to let it go. Besides, it felt so freeing compared to the place he used to share with Rachel in their earlier years.

As he bustles around the living room, stacking designs in orderly piles and dusting the coffee table, unbidden thoughts of Blaine enter his head. They almost kissed. They would have, if not for that drunk that ruined the moment. Did Kurt _want _to kiss Blaine? Yes, of course. But was he ready for that level of commitment with someone? Someone younger than him. Someone he hadn't know all that long. Someone who melted his heart with a simple smile.

Kurt shakes the thoughts from his mind when there's a loud knock on his front door, most likely Finn with Rachel hanging on his arm. When he opens the door, the sight that greets him is no surprise.

"Hey bro," Finn greets as he steps inside and moves right to flopping down on the couch, ruining Kurt's previous efforts of straightening out each cushion meticulously.

"Kurt, thank you for the invite." Rachel at least stops to give him a hug before rushing off after his step-brother.

He sighs, but he can't really argue the fact that he loves the both of them despite how annoying they are on a daily basis.

"Don't get too comfortable, Finnegan. I need you to go straighten out the guest room for Dad."

"Aww, but Kurt! I just got here!"

"Now, Finn. And take Rachel with you. Actually," Kurt added, "don't. She'll stay with me." He could just imagine how ridiculous the room would look with both Rachel and Finn's inputs. Plus, without Rachel around him, maybe Finn would feel more obligated to actually get something done.

Finn grumbles but obediently rises from the couch and slumps off in the direction of the guest room. Leaving Kurt alone with Rachel. Which means only one thing really: interrogation.

"You know, you never told me who you sneaked off to see that one time. With that ridiculous disguise of yours. As your manager, I deserve to know." Kurt ignores her, stepping around her and into the kitchen where he opens the refrigerator and takes out the ingredients needed for turkey burgers and baked fries. After everything that's been going on lately, Kurt wants to keep things simple. His dad will appreciate it, if nothing else.

"Is it a guy?" Rachel follows Kurt right into the kitchen, settling herself at the island on a bar stool. "It is! Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Rachel, shut up."

"Now I _know _it's a guy! Who is he? What's his name? Does he sing? Where does he work?"

"You can ask him yourself later on," Kurt replies.

"You've invited him to a family dinner?" Rachel exhales dramatically, pointing accusingly at Kurt. "This must be serious. Is it serious?"

"Maybe."

"Why didn't you _tell _me earlier?" She jumps off the counter, walking over to the stove and sliding the pan full of pre-cut potatoes into the oven while Kurt shapes the burger patties. "You know you can tell me anything, Kurtie."

"Because, I knew you would be like _this_," he emphasizes with a glare in her direction.

"I'm just happy for you, Kurt. You deserve the best in all aspects of life, romance included." As Kurt sets the patties on the griddle Rachel sidles up to him. "Is he good to you?"

Kurt hangs his head. "Why is everyone _asking _that? We're not even _together_."

"Yet."

His head turns of its own accord. "Have you been talking with my dad behind my back again?"

"No, of course not. I remember what you said the last time. Why do you ask?"

"Because that is exactly what he said when I told him about Blaine coming over for dinner tonight."

"So his name is Blaine? Blaine. _Blaine_. Hmm. I like it." Rachel's smile fades when Kurt continues to glare. "Sorry. I guess smart minds think alike."

Rachel twirls away when Kurt reaches out to swat her on the arm, laughing at the pout that emerges on Kurt's face. Looking around, she spots the object she's looking for: the radio. She turns it on, ignoring Kurt's protests, and tunes to the popular Top 40 station. This station actually plays a little bit of everything, not just the same ten songs on repeat all the time, so it's sort of become their favorite station. Just when the commercial ends, a familiar song begins to play.

"Kurt, sing with me!"

_Today was a fairytale_  
_ You were the prince_  
_ I used to be a damsel in distress_  
_ You took me by the hand and you picked me up at six_  
_ Today was a fairytale_

_ Today was a fairytale_

"Kuuuuuuuuuuurttttttttttttttt."

"Fine, Rach. One verse."

**_Today was a fairytale_**  
**_ I wore a dress_**  
**_ You wore a dark grey t-shirt_**  
**_ You told me I was pretty_**  
**_ When I looked like a mess_**  
**_ Today was a fairytale_**

**_ Time slows down_**  
**_ Whenever you're around_**

**_ Can you feel this magic in the air?_**  
**_ It must have been the way you kissed me_**  
**_ Fell in love when I saw you standing there_**  
**_ It must have been the way_**  
**_ Today was a fairytale_**

**_It must have been the way_**  
**_ Today was a fairytale_**

Rachel smiles, motioning for the two of them to sing together.

_Today was a fairytale_  
_ You've got a smile that takes me to another planet_  
**_ Every move you make everything you say is right_**  
**_ Today was a fairytale_**

_ Today was a fairytale_  
_ All that I can say_  
_ Is now it's getting so much clearer_  
**_ Nothing made sense until the time I saw your face_**  
**_ Today was a fairytale_**

_ Time slows down_  
**_ Whenever you're around_**

Kurt let his voice fade away as Rachel took over the next verse.

_But can you feel this magic in the air?_  
_ It must have been the way you kissed me_  
_ Fell in love when I saw you standing there_  
_ It must have been the way_  
_ Today was a fairytale_  
_ It must have been the way_  
_ Today was a fairytale_

Kurt takes the next part, letting his wistful happiness of the moments he's shared with Blaine flow into his voice.

**_Time slows down_**  
**_ Whenever you're around_**  
**_ I can feel my heart_**  
**_ It's beating in my chest_**  
**_ Did you feel it?_**  
**_ I can't put this down_**

For the last two verses, they take turns singing lines to one another.

_But can you feel this magic in the air?_  
_**It must have been the way you kissed me**_  
_Fell in love when I saw you standing there_  
_**It must have been the way**_

_** But can you feel this magic in the air?**_  
_It must have been the way you kissed me_  
_**Fell in love when I saw you standing there**_  
_It must have been the way_  
_Today was a fairytale_  
_**It must have been the way**_  
_** Today was a fairytale**_

_ Today was a fairytale_

They smile and laugh as the song ends, Rachel abruptly turning the radio off when the next song starts. "I am _not _in the mood for Thrift Shop," she states.

* * *

_**A/N: Taking a page from Rhi's book, I'm going to start leaving some stories that I'm enjoying so you guys can have something to read in between chapters.**_  
_**Right now I'm really in love with **__"Hounds of God" by darrkixie__** as well as **__"Unintended" by EvvieJo__**. The first is an awesome sci-fi/fantasy AU and the second is AU but in a more canon way (if that makes sense.)**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights at all to anything you recognize. Not the characters, not the song. All I own is my weird plot lines and the randomness that ensues.  
**_

_**Also, Glee is so unfair. I was crying just reading reaction fics from Shooting Star. Also, Seasons 5 and 6 confirmed! And Darren's summer tour! So much news...**_

_** It's been so long since I've last updated and I'm so sorry for anyone looking forward to the family dinner this chapter. I've been suffering through so block I'm pushing through so this will just have to keep you occupied for the next few days while I get the actual meeting written down.  
**_


End file.
